On The Battlefield
by TeamGwenee
Summary: AU. Crossover with Downton Abbey. War has broken out. Daleks have invaded and the kingdom is desperate for soldiers. Two young women have sneaked into the army in place of their fathers but neither are prepared to face the reality of life on a battlefield. Gwen/Owen. Edith/Bertie: I don't own TW or DA.
1. Chapter 1

Gwen sat slumped against her cell wall. She ran her hands through her shorn hair and tried to think of something other than the pain from where they branded and 'A' for adulteress on her breast. Something such as how she managed to fuck her life up so drastically in such a short time.

Her parents had cast her out, which she felt was rather unfair. Rhys Williams had called off their engagement , which was fair. And she had been dragged through the street, her clothes torn off, branded with a red-hot poker and had her hair cut. Which was _really_ unfair.

Things had been going well. Tad had found her a decent husband in Rhys Williams and their wedding was going to be just after Rhys had finished his apprenticeship and found work as a stable hand. But then Owen Harper arrived. Owen in his dark physician's robes and sarcastic smile. Owen, who had been attracted to her down to Earth looks and seemed to genuinely listen to what she said. He may have been rude and sarcastic at times, but he had also been genuinely pleasant when she said something he deemed sensible. And for all his rudeness and sarcasm, he did testify at her trial. And thank God he had. If Owen hadn't said he initiated their relationship she could be facing a sentence worse a public branding and forced into a nunnery.

But then, was her being spared a hanging really such a blessing. Gwen had no death wish, but life as a novice was not a particularly enticing thought. And her parents were probably better off without her. If she had been hanged the neighbours would be content that their family tree had been 'pruned' .

"I wish I was dead!" Gwen moaned; burying her head in her hands, before scolding herself for being overly dramatic. She was determined to stay positive and not do anything foolish. She was a sensible, level-headed girl who rarely did anything rash and fanciful. Except for having an affair with Owen and thus risking scandal, public humiliation and her life. That was admittedly rather reckless.

Gwen gulped and swallowed back tears, trying to reconcile her anger at her family for standing by and watch her be dragged through the streets and her guilt for what she had done to them. Let alone Rhys.

Keys jangled and her door was shoved open.

"Owen!" Gwen cried.

"That'll be five shillings," the guard muttered as he untied her bound hands.

"What's going on?" Gwen asked as she rubbed her raw wrists.

"What's going on is you owe me five shillings," Owen growled, taking her by the elbow, "You alright?" 

"Chest hurts like hell,"

"Well I'll take a look at that later," Owen responded in a businesslike manner, before exchanging a cheeky grin with Gwen.

"Hurry up and get out of here," the guard hissed, his pocket bulging.

They made their way out from Gwen's cell; where she was meant to stay until sent to a nunnery.

Before Gwen can say anything, Owen cut her off.

"The Daleks have invaded, the army is conscripting a male member from ever family to defend the country,"

Gwen blinked, "So why did you come to get me out?"

"They're recruiting a man from every family, regardless of age or health,"

Gwen blinked again.

"God you're slow Gwen! You father will be conscripted!"

Gwen blanched. "What can I do?"

Owen glanced over his shoulder, "The local camp will be expecting a male under the name Cooper. If I take you to the camp with me as my assistant they won't send for your father,"

"Your assistant?" 

"Disguised as a boy," Owen nodded, "It won't be pretty but we'll probably spend our time in the medical tent or on the field after the fight. We could probably stay away from most of the danger,"

Gwen gulped, but gave a tiny nod.

"Of course, you don't have to. I could just turn my back and let you flee. But if you do this, you will be making up for anything you and I have done to your family,"

"Won't people notice I'm gone?"

Owen rolled his eyes.

"You really have an out of proportion sense of self-importance, don't you? Our greatest enemies have invaded and our country is at risk! Who is going to care about one chit of a girl who can't keep her legs together? So, you in?" 

Gwen thought of her father, who would never survive another war. Or her mother, who had already lost a daughter. And Owen had promised to give her a relatively safe position.

She smiled.

"I'm in,"

Downton Castle

"How could you Edith?" Robert roared, "You knew he was married,"

"You are incredibly lucky that we could bribe off that horrible woman before she went to the magistrates. Seducing a married man is a serious offence," Cora added.

"His wife is barely alive! She can't talk or even tell once person from the next. They were hardly married. And I hardly seduced Michael,"

"But Gregson can't testify to that, can he?" Robert asked "No, because he is dead!"

Edith flinched at the mention of Michael's death.

"Don't play mourning widow Edith," Mary gave a fake yawn, "You have no right,"

Matthew frowned. "I think we should leave you to it," and with that he steered a disapointed Mary from the room, Tom following.

Only Edith, Robert and Cora were left.

"If word had got out, Gregson would not have been able to testify that he had seduced you. You could have been hung Edith!"

"You could have _died_ ," Robert echoed solemnly.

Edith; already feeling guilty, felt her guilt increase as she thought of what her death would have done to her family.

"And think of the scandal that would have caused!"

And then she felt it decrease.

"I'm sorry, but what else can I say? I loved him,"

"Oh, you loved him? Well there we go Cora. Edith has broken the law, nearly had herself arrested and dragged the family name through filth! But that is alright because she 'loved' him! After all we have done for her,"

Edith had been agreeing with her papa's comments, up until the last one.

"All you have done for me?" she repeated weakly, "What have you done for me?"

"Apart from provide you food and shelter, you mean?"

Edith dismissed this. "That is but a trifling part of a parent's duty towards their child,"

Robert laughed. "And what about your duties as a daughter?" 

They stared at each other in the eye.

"I think you should go to bed," Robert ordered, an icy calm in his voice.

"Well shall decide what to do with you tomorrow," added Cora.

"Yes mama, yes papa," Edith said meekly, too tired to do anything but obey.

But before she could reach the door, Matthew and the others rushed in.

"The Daleks have invaded," Matthew informed them, "the army is sending out conscription notices. There is one for each of us,"


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen; or now Gwaine as Owen had introduced her, had grown up on a farm. She had gutted pheasants and carved pigs. She was used to having her feet deep in mud and shit and her arms covered in blood, but was still rather apprehensive at the thought of going to war. This may have been for several reasons. One, she could die. This was an extremely good reason and incredibly likely to be the case. Another was that the blood on her hands would belong to other people.

Getting into the army was surprisingly simple. Owen had introduced her as Gwaine Cooper, son of Geraint Cooper and therefore Gwen received the conscription notice for her family. Her hair had been cut roughly on the day of her humiliation and fell in ragged bangs across her forehead. Owen was correct in assuming no one would care enough to check the Coopers had a son. The Daleks were thought to have a massive army and their own army were signing up as many soldiers as possible.

Owen lead Gwen to the Physician's tent and dumped his kit bag in a corner. Gwen had no possessions but the rough clothes Owen had leant her.

"Are we sleeping here?" Gwen asked in a voice that suggested she would rather have stayed somewhere else, such as a castle with a poster bed and lake view. Sadly; as this was an army camp, such a room was unavailable.

"We need to be close at hand in case someone gets injured," Owen replied, shoving a blanket into Gwen's amrs, "That's your bed,"

Gwen frowned. "What shall I sleep under?"

"Your cloak, obviously. Now stop behaving like a flipping princess, we have work to do,"

"Owen," Gwen murmured quietly in case she was overheard, "I'm not a doctor,"

"Really?" Owen cried in amazement, "Well no one told me,"

Gwen was begining to wonder what she ever saw in Owen. She had already given up on explaining why she felt he was worth throwing her life away for.

"I mean, I don't know what to do if someone is injured and I have to tend for them,"

Owen's face softened. "I'll tell you what to do. And frankly; the higher ups have their own physicians attending them, they don't give a damn what happens to the foot soldiers,"

Gwen looked up from where she was spreading out her blanket.

"Then why do we fight for them?"

"I'm _not_ fighting for them! I'm fighting for the poor souls back home whose lives will be destroyed if the Daleks break through our defenses. And I suggest you do the same,"

Owen knelt down in front of Gwen and looked her in the eye.

"Gwen, I'm telling you now. People will die. You yourself may die. And at one point you may have to kill someone. When these things happen, remember who you are fighting for. Not for the nobles with their horses who can leave at any moment and leave the canon fodder for dead. No, you're fighting for the normal folk like you and I. You're fighting for the women who may be raped, the children who will be slaughtered and the farmers who will see their lands torched before their eyes,"

Owen and Gwen stared at each other. Owen's uncharacteristic passion left Gwen feeling uneasy. And a slight niggle of resentment entered Gwen's brain.

"You mean I will be fighting for the people who called for my death and threw me in a cell?" 

"Exactly! Think of it this way, do this for them and you can consider yourself far their superior,"

Gwen gave a small smile.

"Well I do like to consider myself better than others. Which had been admittedly hard to do these last few days," 


	3. Chapter 3

When Papa had found out that Edith was having an affair with a married man, he had looked at her as if she was insane. As it was, Edith rather suspected he was true.

None of their conscription notices had arrived. Many men were volunteering and Tom had guessed that the army were saving paper by only writing notices for the people who had to be forced.

"But they can't want Robert!" Cora cried, "He has already served his time. And he is far too old,"

"Thanks," Robert muttered.

Matthew and Tom glanced at each other uneasily.

"He may be allowed to stay home," Matthew said, "But it is highly unlikely I'm afraid,"

"You should prepare yourself for the worse," Tom added.

"And so should you," Matthew said, taking Mary into his arms.

Edith watched as the family stood with ashen faces. Cora embraced Robert tightly and Robert placed a fatherly hand on Tom's shoulder. Mary and Matthew stood close, Mary weeping into Matthew's chest and Matthew with his head buried in Mary's hair. Robert stood by a candle that cast deathly shadows across his face, as if he were already a corpse.

Edith felt as if she were going to be sick.

"Papa?" she whispered softly.

"Go to bed Edith," Robert snapped gruffly, not looking her in the eye.

Edith slowly turned and left the family to comfort themselves. Numbly she made her way up the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her. She sat on the stool in front of her mirror and stared at he reflection. She knew she lacked her mother and sisters' full lips and wide eyes. Mary had made many a comment on how similar Edith looked to a boy.

And then it happened. That tiny thought like a seed grew and grew. She knew there was no chance Papa would be let off. The Dalek army was so large and ferocious their own army would get anyone they could. Except women. Except for healthy, intelligent women who would be willing to defend their families and country as opposed to letting their elderly fathers be slaughtered. For some reason, something about their rule didn't quite add up.

Edith blinked. She couldn't... could she? If she left tonight; before anyone realised, and cut off her hair. If she turned up at the camp and called herself Edward Crawley and if through some miracle she was believed... could she get away with it?

Edith had no false vanity. She knew Papa would be missed more than her. Whereas Papa was the center of their family, Edith herself could be cut away with ease. And if she survived.. if she came back a hero, all would be forgiven. Childish thoughts which entered into the mind of every child who had been forgotten and neglected to the point they considered running away flashed through Edith's head. If she came back a hero Mama and Papa would cry and pull her into their embrace. Mary would finally respect her or at least would be shut down every time she opened her mouth to insult her.

Edith was the daughter of an Earl. She had grown up with tales of dashing knights and heroic battles. Nasty bits of reality such as death and disease had never entered the bubble she and her sisters were kept in since birth. She was in no way prepared for what going to war would truly bring. And maybe; if she had know the true horrors that awaited her, her decision that night would have been a very different one. But no. She was an innocent. And so she took up her sewing scissors and cut off her hair with a surprisingly calm and steady hand.

"Yes," Edith thought, "Definitely insane,"


	4. Chapter 4

As they had arrived early, Captain Harkness had ordered them to help sign in and distribute armour amongst the new recruits, causing Owen to grumble about how it was his job to tend to their wounds, not play nursemaid.

Gwen watched the new soldiers with interest. Some were loud and boastful, going on about how many Daleks they were going to kill and how many lasses they were going to kiss. Others were silent and sullen, muttering their names and collecting their suplies with a curt nod. Many looked as if they were going to vomit.

She had just finished with a chubby youth called Tyler who wouldn't look her in the eye and spoke in a gruff whisper when she noticed a shaking young man who looked as white and soft as a lily. Gwen was tempted to give him a friendly smile but feared it would be too womanly.

"Name?" she asked, her quill poised (her mother had taught her to read and write in hopes of her finding a better husband.)

"Edward Crawley," the lad stammered, tugging at his ear. "Son of Robert Crawley,"

Edith noted down his name and family before passing the kit to him. She watched as Edward Crawley; son of Robert Crawley , buckled under the weight of the armour. A shiver ran down her spine as she realised he would probably never see his family again.

"You alright Gwaine?" Owen muttered as he past by.

"Most these boys are going to die, aren't they?" was all Gwen could say.

Owen nodded. "Probably,"

/

Edith felt beads of sweat run across her forehead as the dark haired boy wrote down her made up name.

'Oh, what was I thinking?' she thought frantically, 'I could never be a soldier! What do I know of fighting and battles? I can't even play chess,'

Her armour was heavier than expected; she nearly collapsed under the weight of it, much to the amusement of those behind her. She had walked about ten steps before realising that she had no idea where she was meant to be.

"Excuse me," she said to the person nearest to her in what she hoped was a manly voice, "Could you please tell me where I am meant to go?"

The man turned to face her. He had muscles the size of her head, a broken nose and skin so scarred it looked like it was melting.

"What was that, you pipsqueak?" he growled.

"I don't know where to go," Edith whispered.

"You don't know where to go? You don't know where to go," he mocked, imitating Edith's posh voice, "Nowhere near me, that'll be where you go if you don't want your head smashed in, pretty boy!"

Edith felt as if she were going to cry.

"Hang on, there's no need for that," a fair haired boy said.

"Stay out of it William," a dark man beside him hissed.

"But Thomas-," William began,

"Stay out of it," Thomas growled, steering him away.

"Yes, that's right," Melty Face sneered, "Go and run away you pansies, go back to your mama and cry about how the big boys were mean to you. Leave the fighting to the real men!"

Thomas turned around and raised an eyebrow.

"Well now you asked for it,"

Thomas swung a fist and caught Melty Face by surprise, knocking him backwards.

Whereas Melty Face had muscle, Thomas had clearly had cunning. Melty Face tried to wrestle Thomas into a headlock, but Thomas dived out of the why and bit Melty Face on his shin. He than grabbed a handful of Melty Face's hair and kneed him in the groin.

"Oh my balls!" Melty Face cried.

Melty Face's friends heard his groans and rushed to his aid, causing a full on fight to start.

Punches were thrown and men wrestled in the mud. The camp was full of the sound of groans and cheers and soon the earth became mingled wth blood.

"Alright, Shut It!" Gwained yelled, standing on top of his desk, "Stop fighting immediatly!"

"Oh yeah?" one of Melty Face's friends jeered, "And what can you do about it?" 

"I'll tell you what I can do about it! When it comes to battle I'll be in the physician's tent tending to your wounds. I can decide who gets seen to first and who has to wait. So if you don't want to be hanging around with your arm falling off while we look at a papercut I suggest you disperse. Now!"

"I couldn't have put it better myself Cooper," Captain Hakness said from atop his horse, his face full of thunder. "Now, may I ask who started this fight?"

"He did sir!" Melty Face cried, pointing at Edith.

"Is this true soldier?" Captain Harkness demanded.

Melty Face and his friends were all glaring at Edith.

"Yes Captain," Edith lied.

Captain Harkness looked as though he didn't believe a word of it.

"And what did you do to start the fight?"

Melty Face and his friends were now smirking triumphantly. Something inside Edith snapped.

"I asked him if we were going to use his face to scare off the enemy Captain,"

All the soldiers but Melty Face and (most of) his friends laughed.

Harkness smiled.

"A good tactic soldier," he said, "But I can see how it caused offence. Next time, keep it to yourself,"

And with that he rode off, not giving Edith a punishment.

"Oh, you are dead meat!" Melty Face growled, clenching his fists.

"Is he now?" Gwaine asked, "Didn't you hear what I said? Get out of here, now!"

For someone half their size, Gwaine looked rather fierce and even Melty Face and his friends knew better than to piss in the hands that fed them. They left, throwing Edith dark looks.

Gwaine knelt down beside Thomas and helped William pull him up.

"You alright?" he asked.

Thomas nodded. "The fat lump didn't touch me, I just slid on some mud,"

William hooted with laughter and the two of them made their way back to camp.

Edith turned to Gwaine.

"Thank you," Edith said.

Gwaine's eyes widened and Edith cursed her stupidity. In her relief she had forgotten to make her voice sound like a man's.

Gwaine's face softened into a smile.

"It's alright," she replied in an equally feminine voice. She leant forward. "My name is Gwen," she whispered.

Edith smiled back and stuck out her hand.

"And mine is Edith,"


	5. Chapter 5

(Thanks to VampireKaira for reviewing!)

Gwen wanted to stay and talk to Edith, when she heard her name being called.

"Cooper!"

Harkness beckoned over to her from his horse. Gwen gave Edith one last friendly look before heading over to the Captain. He swung down from his horse in so careless a manner that Gwen was certain he had spent hours practicing. He gave her an approving smile.

"Good job on settling that fight. We have no chance of winning this war if we can't work together and it's good to know we have people like you on our side,"

Gwen beamed. Having Harkness compliment her made Gwen feel like the most wonderful person on Earth. There was something about him that made Gwen desperate to impress him futher. it was rather to her dismay when Harkness simply gave Gwen a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away with a bit of a swagger. His horse followed behind like an obedient puppy and Gwen stood still, grinning like an idiot.

On the way back she was accosted by several young men, all giving her admiring smiles and handshakes. She was bemused to find that many of them had taken her threat seriously and were now trying to gain favour. Men twice her size moved to let her pass and soldiers with whom she had not exchanged two words called out jovial greetings.

By the time she had reached the physician's tent she was preening like a peacock, at least she was until the stench of beer hit her nostrils.

"Ah, here he is!" Owen slurred, waving a tankard around, "My favourite assistant!" 

Gwen noticed a dark young boy arranging gauze in the corner.

"Who's this?" she asked politely.

"Martin Jones," the boy replied, jerking his hand as though to go in for a handshake, only to change his mind and nervously pull his hair over his face.

"Jones's father was a physician, so he's going to chum with us," Owen cheered.

Gwen moved to help Martin.

"And what has put you in such a good mood?"

"I can answer that," Martin replied, "I think you're gained us a lot of popularity. A bunch of lads came over here and brought a barrel of beer. Probably trying to make sure we treat them right if they get hurt,"

"Using your influence in the physician's tent to gain power," said Owen, waggling his finger, "Not very moral, is that Cooper?"

"I only said those things to stop a bunch of thugs from picking on a kid half their size. I can assure you Doctor Harper that I will use my powers for good, not evil,"

Owen laughed. "I don't care if you use your powers for good or evil! I just want you to keep bringing in the booze,"

/

When Edith did something stupid (or was thought to be stupid) at home, Mary would sneer and her family would smirk. She would then go to her bedroom as quickly as possible and throw herself onto her bed, scream into her goose feather pillows before asking a page to send some sweatmeats up to her room.

Here, when she did something stupid she was ganged up on, threatened with violence and had to hide in a tent shared by three others. She had no bed but a thin straw pallet and her cloak to be used as a blanket.

And in a few months time; after training, if she did something stupid she could be killed.

Night had descended. A bitter wind was blowing and although she slept in her clothes the cold surrounded Edith like a blanket made of ice. She was not used to roughing it, although her tent fellows clearly were. The tent was small, which Edith was glad for. She was also happy to be sharing with Thomas and William who had stuck up for he earlier. Or at least, William had stuck up for her and Thomas had clobbered Melty Face. Edith was unsure which act she was the most grateful for. Both; she felt, deserved a knighting.

The third man was someone she had overheard being called Pelham. She had only exchanged greetings with him but he had a kind face and a friendly manner, something she was pleased to see in such a place.

Edith squealed as she fell something run across her foot. She jerked up in time to see a fat grey rat scampering across the cold ground.

"Whatissit?" Thomas mumbled, blniking in Edith's direction.

"A rat," Edith squeaked.

Thomas looked round quickly, "Where? Did you catch it?"

"No,"

"Great," Thomas sighed, "That could have been breakfast,"

"What's going on?" William asked, as he and Pelham awoke from their sleep.

"There was a rat," 

"Did you get it?" Pelham inquired eagerly.

"Sorry,"

Edith lay back down upon her pallet, listening to the sighs of disappointment coming from the others.

Edith had guessed that meals would not be like at home, with great models made from sugar and almond paste and stuffed peacock, but _rats_ for breakfast. Edith gagged at the thought. She had nearly gone back to sleep when it dawned on Edith that it was only going to get worse from now on. When they came face to face with the enemy there would be blood, disease and death. And that could _her_ blood and _her_ death. There was no backing out now. If she tried to flee, it meant death. If she revealed herself as a woman, it meant death. And if she fought, that probably meant death as well. Death was closing in on her from all sides. It was only now, when she confronted with the fact she would probably die that Edith knew she had made a mistake.

/

Robert knew he must be mistaken. It made no sense. When Edith disappeared she had simply ran off in a sulk. She must have. The ludicrous idea only really occurred to Robert when the conscription notices came and he received none. Tom and Matthew had read theirs gravely before going, leaving only their love and the desire for any news of Edith.

Having lost three children in one day left Robert feeling winded, and he found himself in Edith's chamber without remembering how he got there. With renewed vigour, her began to tear the place to pieces in order to find hints of Edith's whereabouts, and to disprove his wild theory. Robert's heart plummeted as he found a pile of hair inside Edith's chest. He knew why she cut it. She had no other reason. He also knew that it was definitely her hair. He would recognise those strawberry blonde curls anywhere.

Pain shot through him like an arrow as he remembered wrapping those golden ringlets round his fingers as his little girl sat by his feet, head on lap.

Robert stumbled down the echoing halls and brushed past pages and Ladies in Waiting until he found Cora in her sitting room, staring into space.

"What is it, my Lord?" she asked, putting her embroidery to one side.

Numbly, he held out a handful of hair. Mothers always know, and Cora was no exception. Robert was just able to notice the horror dawning on Cora's face before he collapsed to the ground with a thud.


	6. Chapter 6

Owen had scowled, moaned and whined. None of that would budge Captain Harkness.

"But I'm a doctor! Not a soldier, why should I train?"

The dark clouds that had loomed over the camp for days had made good on their threat. Rain was bulleting to the ground. The tents were weighed down with water and no soldier was dry and free of the ankle deep mud. Well, except for Captain Harkness, for whom mud and rain seemed to stand to attention to let him pass, clean and dry. Prat.

"Everyone is training Harper," Harkness snapped.

"Is that true Harkness? Because I don't see you doing press ups in the mud and walking for miles with armour on your back like the rest of us,"

"Alright," Harkness agreed, "everyone is training except for me," Harkness turned with a swish of his cloak, "And that's Captain Harkness to you!"

/Edith couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. She couldn't even hear. Her chest was so tight it felt like Melty Face had grabbed it in his sweaty paw and was squeezing the life out of it. Her ears were ringing and black shadows danced before her eyes.

Edith was so red and damp from sweat one would think she had just emerged from her monthly bath. No longer running, she had settled to dragging herself along through sheer will. Every step was a struggle. A personal war between mind and body. Victory and failure. Strength and weakness. And every step she did not keel over was another step strength won.

"Move on Crawley, you've only been running half a mile," Harkness's voice hollered above the roaring gale.

That was it, weakness won.

She collapsed in the mud. Despite the cold, the mud was soft and Edith welcomed it like a mattress. She lay perfectly still, face down and breathing heavily. Her aching muscles screamed with relief at the rest. She could never get up.

Then it hit her. If she didn't buck up and start training, one day she would lay in the mud. She would never move again. She would lay there until her body became one with the Earth. How would it happen? A stab? Arrow? Illness? Would her skull be crushed in? Why would it happen? Because she wasn't smart enough? Quick enough? Strong enough?

Edith's eyes filled with tears. She had to get up. No matter the pain and exhaustion. She had to get up, get to work. If she didn't at least to try, she wouldn't have a chance.

Edith felt a damp hand clasp her shoulder and pull her up. She collapsed against a wet, muddy body, panting heavily. Edith looked up to see Gwen's smiling face.

"Are you alright?" Gwen gasped, sounding only slightly better than herself.

Edith grinned back, mainly due to the kindness Gwen showed, but partially fue to the fact that if Gwen was also panting heavily then she couldn't be doing to badly.

"I had just reached the end when I saw you keel over!"

Edith's smile dropped.

Gwen read her face and her grin widened. She drew up, no longer supporting Edith but keeping a friendly hand on her shoulder. They stumbled along, tearing their feet from the mud.

"I'm pathetic!"

"You're not the only one," Gwen said, in an attempt to reassure Edith, "That Tyler boy ran for about three minutes before collapsing completely. Too many potatoes if you ask me,"

Edith peered over Gwen's shoulder, where she saw Ross Tyler drag himself through the mud.

"Do you think we can beat him to the end," Edith asked.

Gwen's entire face lit up, taking no notice of the rain and mud and sweat.

"Easily"

"Cooper! Crawley! Stop chittering and move it!" Harkness called, snug in his velvet cape and comfy on his horse.

Edith and Gwen picked up the pace, exchanging smirks.

"One day that oaf will teach me to fight and then he'll be sorry," Gwen swore.

Edith smiled. "You can fight him easily, but I'd like to see you take _me_ down,"

Gwen laughed. "Dream on!" she called, letting go of Edith and sprinting the last stretch, causing Edith stumble and fall.

"I'll get you for this!" Edith cried after her.

"Only if you can catch me,"

Edith smiled, and stood up.


End file.
